


I Missed You

by tklivory



Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition - General [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullistair, Fluff and Smut, I blame elfrooted, M/M, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tklivory/pseuds/tklivory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair returns to Skyhold after a hunting trip with the Inquisitor, and finds Cullen in his room waiting for him, missing some key items. Like clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Missed You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elfroot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfroot/gifts).
  * Inspired by [SWORDS & BROKEN SHIELDS ★ REMASTERED ★](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3604299) by [elfroot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfroot/pseuds/elfroot). 



 This piece was wholly inspired by this [photomanipulation by elfroot](http://elfrooted.tumblr.com/post/122306097164/because-i-missed-cullen-this-is-not-a-drawn). Go and thoroughly enjoy that first, then return and read the story. 

 

* * *

 

 _Maker,_  Alistair sighed as he leaned against the wall and let his head fall back with a thunk. _Note to self: never take the Inquisitor up on her offer for a ‘fun’ hunt ever again._  Three days and several bruises later, the party had returned, several carts full of everything from bronto hides to the heads of giants, all in the name of ‘strengthening the Inquisition’, whatever that meant.

What it _really_  meant, as far as Alistair was concerned, was too much time away from Skyhold, but he couldn’t really admit the reason _why_  that was such a terrible thing to anyone. At least, not anyone who needed to _hear_  it.

The only person who needed to know already knew. _Intimately._

With a groan, Alistair managed to stand upright again and turned towards the door to his guest quarters, fumbling for the handle so he could stumble inside and collapse into bed.

When the door creaked open, he looked up and into his room - and completely forgot about everything else.

“The Inquisitor’s letter said you’d be back tonight,” Cullen said, the smirk on his lips not _even_  the most beautiful part of the vision he presented. Certainly there were several elements which _could_  have claimed that descriptive: the way the blankets were thrown back artfully to reveal the sheets, or the expanse of bare skin and exquisitely shaped muscles, or the rose slowly losing its petals in a soft rain in the absence of the man who had gifted it to the one upon the bed. It _could_  have been those, but Alistair’s thrumming heart and pulsating shaft told him that the _truly_  beautiful element was nestled between those magnificent thighs, ready and eager for his touch.

“Ah, um, yes. Tonight. Back. Long trip.” A slow smile came to his lips as he entered and shut the door behind him, sending the bar home as he dropped everything in his hands and began to quickly remove his armor. 

“Too long, if you ask me,” Cullen mused, hand idly stroking down his bare chest, along his stomach, and then too--

“Void take you,” Alistair muttered as he heaved his breastplate up and over his head to land in a clatter on the floor. “Some things are _never_  too long and you know it.”

“Mmm?” Cullen inquired with a lifted eyebrow and a long, steady stroke. “What was that, Alistair?”

Armor gone, Alistair just grinned and took the final two steps to the bed, collapsing on top of the naked ex-Templar with a playful growl as he brought his clothed groin in to grind against Cullen’s hand and what lay beneath it. “It certainly wasn’t a complaint,” he said with a chuckle, then bent his head to seize the man’s lips.

 _Maker._  After that, it was fire and heat, surging between them as it had since the first time, despite the gap between it and meeting at Skyhold after years of separation. Somewhere in the midst of the fevered stroking and fervent sighing, the cries and the groans, Alistair’s clothes ended up in a shredded mess on the opposite side of the room, the little vase was knocked over, and any semblance of artistry in the skewed blankets was lost. 

There was only the flush of skin teased with lips and teeth, the hot and heavy breaths as Alistair’s mouth worked from mouth to ear to nipple - and then lower - and finally the ragged gasps and muffled curses as he took what had been offered into his mouth and gave his thanks for such a _marvelous_  welcome-back present. When Cullen squeezed Alistair’s broad shoulders, or raked his nails along the Warden’s bruised and battered back, Alistair only chuckled and pulled him deeper into his mouth, one arm reaching up to wrap around Cullen’s leg and push it against the wall. Only then did he pull off of Cullen’s length so he could nuzzle the man’s inner thigh, biting his way firmly up the muscled expanse until he found the base of the man’s shaft once more, latching on with lips and fingers to tug and squeeze mercilessly.

 _“Maker’s breath,”_  Cullen gasped. “If this is what you’re like when the Inquisitor takes you hunting, she can steal you away any day.”

Alistair chuckled, his large hand wrapping around Cullen’s cock to squeeze and stroke firmly as he bit and kissed his way up the man’s torso. “As long as she brings me back and I find you like this every time, I have no objections.” 

Whatever Cullen might have said in response was lost as Alistair’s teeth found that hard muscle at the joint of neck and shoulder, causing Cullen to jerk and his shaft to stiffen in Alistair’s grasp. Once again, actions circumvented all attempts at words, speaking more eloquently than either man could hope to express using any other method. Sweat formed a fine film on their skin, a slickness enhanced as time went by, and when Alistair finally claimed his prize completely, Cullen’s ragged cry echoed off the stone walls.

For a moment, Alistair held his position, a cocky grin on his face as he watched the man pant for breath. “Enjoy that, did we?” he asked in a low tone. Only after Cullen recovered enough to nod and urgently buck his hips against Alistair’s did the Warden laugh and pull Cullen abruptly closer. His hips surged into motion, giving the ex-Templar no quarter as he thrust deeply and claimed those scarred lips for another devouring kiss. The bed creaked and shifted with every motion, adding to the growing chorus within the room.

And, as always, the culmination was beautiful. Oh, it was messy, and loud, and involved grunts and groans that neither man would ever be able to emulate later without laughing sheepishly. But it was also glorious as Alistair’s hips began to jerk sporadically until he just buried himself as deeply as he could, swallowing Cullen’s long-drawn out moan and merging it with his as warm liquid smeared both their chests and trickled down to the newly-christened sheets. It was a _divine_  mess, a glorious cacophony, and neither man ever wished it to be anything else but _theirs._

_Maker’s breath, but it was beautiful._


End file.
